


"...yet if hope has flown away, in a night or in a day..."

by WaywardGraves, writingramblr



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Porn, Credence Barebone Crying During Sex, Credence Barebone Deserves Better, Credence Barebone Needs a Hug, Dubcon(ish), Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Pain, Percival Graves shushing during sex, RP logs, Shameless Smut, Vampire Original Percival Graves, paintrain for real y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 04:50:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11616234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaywardGraves/pseuds/WaywardGraves, https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: Credence thinks Mister Graves has come back... unfortunately he's not the Graves he used to be.





	"...yet if hope has flown away, in a night or in a day..."

An ordinary night. Well... ordinary for him. Ordinary for him now at least. Percival wakes with the moon and pulls on his long coat. The only thing he managed to salvage from MACUSA after Grindelwald was caught.    
He's always been careful with his appearance and that doesn't change now. It seems like it's the only thing that the same from before, the only thing he has control over anymore.    
He leaves the basement he's managed to steal away in without notice. His body is abuzz with need, it's been two days since he had a decent meal and he's growing desperate.   
He prowls the city streets, trying to find a victim no one would miss.

 

Credence woke up scared, alone, and hurting, but not bleeding like usual. He could only remember flashes of bright light, and then a lot of pain, before darkness. 

* * *

 

  
  
The subway.   
  
He'd been there, and now he was here, home in the rubble of the church. It wasn't very comforting, and something about the night was eerie. He wasn't cold, but he would be soon, as his clothing seemed to be barely clinging to his body in tatters.    
He doesn't fight the tears when they come, there's no one to hear him or see him. He curls up tightly in the corner and prays that if god's still watching over him, he'll keep him safe.

 

Percival is walking down Pike street when he hears something. A soft whimpering coming from looks like an abandoned building, the sounds a child would make. His auror instincts mix with his new, darker ones and he walks cautiously over the threshold. It's only once inside he realizes it must be a church, well suppose that answers whether or not he could enter one. The crying is coming from upstairs and he starts ascending, careful not to trip over the broken staircase.

 

Credence slumps over to the side, braced on  his arm, trying to stay warm. The tears have slowed by now but he still lets out a whimper or a sniffle every so often. Maybe he did die, and he's merely trapped here, for eternity. He wishes it wasn't so dark and dreary. The floor isn't a comfortable surface, but he's had it worse. he blinks into the darkness, and for a second he thought he heard something else. probably just a rat or alleycat scuttling around.

Percival opens the door to one of the small bedrooms and finds... not what he expects. Not a boy, but a young man is huddled on the floor. His clothes are in ruins hanging around his too-thin frame. He carefully starts moving towards him, curiosity almost outweighing his thirst.

 

At the sound of the door creaking, Credence straightens up. That's not something a creature could do. He frowns, and sees the general outline of a man, tall, long coat. Something inside his chest clenches along with the hunger pains in his abdomen. Could it be? Had the man come for him after all? He'd hurt Credence. Hit him. Called him useless. Further tears sting his eyes even as hope blossoms in his gut.   
"M-mister Graves?"

 

Percival is mentally knocked off balance for a moment. His defenses are raised as it seems the other knows who he is but... there's no way? He's never seen this boy before. He thinks he many be one of Grindelwald's spies but his name is spoken with such pain... he doesn't thi-   
  
Grindelwald.    
  
Fuck.   
  
The answer's right there. He knows the man masqueraded as him for a good few months. It's the most logical explanation. Still he stays on guard, has to be sure, "How do you know my name?"

 

Credence cannot believe it. It's worse than before. His own personal hell. Mister Graves doesn't even want to recognize him. Or he's been wiped from his mind.    
  


"Mister Graves... why are you doing this?" Credence puts his hands to his face, trying to hide in futility. "I know... I failed you. I'm no use anymore. I was the child, but now... I think my power is gone." He's not wanted to think about it. But it must be. He cannot do anything. He's powerless. 

 

Alone.

 

Even more so, Percival is simply confused. Grindelwald is the most likely of options for sure but...a child? Power? He can't let this go unknown, no matter how much he needs to feed. He moves closer and squats down next to the boy, putting on a falls sympathetic voice, "Forgive me my boy, I'm having a hard time remembering a few things. Something happened to me. But I'm going to need your help to remember okay?"

 

Credence flinches away as he feels the man approach, and when he looks up, over to him, something seems... strange. "Why don't you remember? Did someone attack you too?" Besides himself. He remembers that. Fleeing from Modesty's old home. To land in the subway.

 

"Yes," Percival replies honestly, "I'm going to need you to tell me everything, from the moment I met you, all that happened."

 

Credence shakes his head, "No, no, there's too much. Mister Graves... "

 

"We have time, don't worry." He pauses and think back on the boy's words, "You said you failed me before, do this now and you'll be forgiven for anything that happened. We can fix this together, you and me." The poor thing seems desperate to be useful, well Graves is starting to think of quite a few things to fit that definition

 

Credence swallows, and then rubs a hand over his face, wiping away his tears. A second chance? He might have to take it. His voice trembles, as cold wracks his body, but he does his best, trying to explain what happened the day before, the last week. Everything. Every meeting. He leaves out the healing. The touching. Perhaps Mister Graves regrets it. He doesn't want to make the man angry. "...and now I'm here."

 

Percival runs a hand down his face. He knew of the obscurus. Heard talk at MACUSA when he was lurking about, but he heard it died. That was the child this boy was talking about before...and this boy was the child. He was the obscurus but, "Your powers...they're all gone?"

 

Credence nods, frustrated, but mainly at himself. "I thought I had died. But after the pain, I ended up here. You're here. Unless you're haunting me... it feels gone. I feel...wrong. Empty." He holds up his hands, though they are free of scars, he knows, he must have lost the magic that made him what he was.

 

Percival is haunting him, but not in the way Credence thinks he means. After his story, he know the second salemers. He vaguely remembers the boy though from quick passes on the street, though he never looked twice. He looks twice now; the plush lips, the feline eyes... were he not so haggard, Credence could be quite something, but he'll work with what he has. He brings a hand up to cup his face, he knows his own hand is cold and devoid of life.

 

Credence jumps at the touch, further cold against his chilled skin, and he catches his breath. "What-?" The man's eyes are dark, almost lifeless. He wonders if he did succeed in hurting him.

"Credence... you've had the worst lot in life. I wonder... if you may allow me to try and make it better?" 

 

His bloodlust is high and his sexual lust starts mounting. He supposed they could have a but of fun before he ends his miserable life.

 

Fresh tears sting at his eyes, and the man blurs before him. 

"How?" He doesn't mention it’s because of Mister Graves that thing's are like this.

 

"I want to make you feel better." He breathes, not using his vampire lure. He wants to see what he can take from the boy.

 

Credence's heart races, it's more than he could have ever hoped for. Is this god's answer to his prayer? Somehow, he's not sure. But he bites his lip, and then nods. It's not like he has the strength to fight, to run. "Please, Mister Graves... I'm so cold."

 

"I'll warm you up as best as I can," he says, voice low. He leans forward and presses his cold lips to Credence's barely warmer ones.

 

Credence blinks, astonished, he wasn't expecting this.  He's confused, conflicted. He keeps his hands against his chest, and tries to remain still. It's like being kissed by someone who's been trapped out in a snowstorm.

 

"Come now my boy, we've known each other for a long time, there's no need to be shy..." Percival murmurs before diving back in, trying to coax the creature into moving with him, licking his tongue along the entrance of his mouth.

 

Mister Graves is right. He's wanted this for far too long, he's frightened of himself. The sheer need he's felt. Letting the man heal him, just to get close. He reaches out, desperate, and grabs the sides of the man's arms, before tilting his head, trying to imitate the moves. He's never done this. Though he's dreamed of it, often. Credence startles at the icy wet touch, but parts his lips, and presses in harder.

This is almost too easy. He feels himself hardening at the boy's inexperience...it's arousing in its own right. He slowly starts leaning forward until Credence is laying in the ground and he's atop him, still kissing those blood red lips.

 

Credence doesn't know how it happened, but Mister Graves is bracketed over him, pressing him into the floor, and he's unable to do much but hold on, clinging to the man's coat. He wishes he could wear it. He'd let the man do anything if he wasn't so cold.

 

He kisses him for a few more moments before he realizes his body temperature is about the same as his own. He presses a few soft kisses down his neck and can feel his blood cooling, that just won't do for a meal. It's also not very comfortable on the floor.    
Without a word he grabs the boy and disapparates back to his basement.

 

Credence feels the ground fall out from under him, and something choking him, though the last thing he knew he was pinned beneath Mister Graves, shivering.

 

They land and Graves keeps hold of Credence, he knows apparating can take it's toll. He deposits the boy on the bed and quickly straddles him like before. He props his hands on either side if his face and he pushes a strand of hair out of his eyes.

 

Soft. Warm. Credence could cry at the change, and the sudden return of air to his lungs. He does, he stares up at Mister Graves, and manages a shaky smile.  The touch to his face is gentle, tender almost. "Thank you."

 

"Let's get you a little warmer..." He says, he flicks his hand and creates a small, contained fire next to the bed, "We should get you out of these rags, you'll warm faster that way." He plays with the collar at his throat.

 

Credence blinks as a shiver runs down his spine. His voice falls to a whisper, "Okay." He's dreamt of this too. His hands fumble with the torn fabric that’s all that remains of his vest and shirt, and he can't seem to find the buttons. He's wary of tearing it completely, moving too fast.

 

Percival rolls his eyes in impatience at such childish fumbling. He grips the boy’s shirt and coat and rips it from his thin body.

Credence startles at the sudden movement, but at least it's off now. His skin tingles as it adjusts to the warmth from the magical fire. He swallows, and sits up to help with his pants, still shaky.

 

Graves beats him to it. He rips the belt in half and tears away the rest if the clothing to get to his prize. He sits back once the boy is totally undressed and just stares.

 

Credence draws deep ragged breaths as Mister Graves looks at him, and he knows, without the scars, he's probably not as ugly as he was before. Still, he's not comfortable being studied so long.    
"Mister Graves? Am I..." To his liking? Worthy of him? He's not sure where he was going. He puts his hands to his groin, covering his shamefully growing hardness. It must be the comfort of the bed, the warmth. Credence has never been naked in front of anyone before.

 

"Shhhh..." He says, putting a finger to his lips, "Lay back. You're gonna be so good for me Credence." He moves forward and starts kissing him again, satisfied with the way his blood is coming back alive.

 

He's halted before he can answer, to confirm, that of course, he'll do his best. The kisses make him warm faster than even the fire, as his cock swells and his heart begins to race, he gasps into Mister Graves' mouth, and tries to reach for him, to help him out of his coat.

 

Graves plunges his tongue into the heat of his mouth. He's so hungry, he needs to take.    
He snaps his fingers and the boy's hole is lubed up instantly. He palms his own erection through his slacks.

 

Credence squirms at the feel, the foreign sensation of slick in between his legs, his cock twitches, and he tries to moan, but Mister Graves has begun to kiss him like he's trying to eat him alive.

 

Percival makes swift work of his pants and pulls his cock out. He drags it along the wet slit of the boy's ass, he hesitates before pushing in, a thought coming to him, "Have we done this before, my boy?"

 

Credence gulps, and shakes his head, eyes wide. He's mildly terrified, but exhilarated all at once. "N-no sir. We've never even kissed before tonight. I wanted to... if it matters."

 

It doesn't really, they'd be in this position no matter what the boy wants. But he supposed it's easier if he doesn't have to fight. "Now don't lie to me. Have you done this with anyone else?"

 

Credence shakes his head again, "No! It's a sin. But I wanted to… with you. Only you."

 

Percival feels pity for the young man beneath him, he's totally taken with the Mister Graves he thinks he knows. He's sure he'd do anything he asks. He lines up with his hole and says, "This may sting a bit," before starting to push his head in.

 

Credence thought he knew pain, but it’s not the same as this, not at all. This mingles with his arousal and twists it, like a knife to his skin. He's choking on air, fighting himself to relax, to allow it, but he can't. He reaches out to grasp at Mister Graves' shoulders, to brace himself, and tears fall freely from his cheeks onto the pillows beneath him. "Please... sir, it hurts."

 

"I know dear boy, keep breathing." Percival breathes, pushing slower. He doesn't want the boy to be in more pain than he has to. The end is approaching for him anyway.

 

Credence is unable to stop crying, shaking apart at the seams. If he'd still had magic, he suspects he'd have exploded by now. It's the hardest cross he's had to bear, but he does. Mister Graves' cock continues to drive into him, invading him places he's never touched or thought to. He tries to open his legs wider, hoping it will help, and his hands fist in the fabric of the man's coat, knuckles white.

 

Percival seats himself and allows the boy to adjust. The tears are streaming but he can tell he's trying so hard to stay quiet. He leans over him and starts laving him with kisses once more, trying to distract him.

 

"Mister Graves..." He's sobbing, trembling from the mere pressure between his legs, the foreign sensations and the slight sharp shock of lust, the idea that he wanted this, he just didn't what it meant. The kiss is a pleasant if mild distraction, and it stifles Credence’s cries.

 

Percival sees the boy's still in pain and moves his hand down to his flagging erection. If this doesn't work he'll give up but if the boy can enjoy it, then it will be more pleasurable for them both.

 

The first touch to Credence’s cock is another shock, but it's different. He's only known his own hand, for a few, fitful, late night stolen moments. His eyes snap open and he tries to move, a whimper escaping his throat.

 

"There you go, good boy..." Percival sighs, with a smile more befitting a shark than a lover. He moves his hand, coaxing the boy's cock back to life, and minutely starts rolling his hips.

 

"Oh...oh god..." Credence doesn't know how, but with every touch, he's less aware of the pain, only trying to chase the pleasure. Now that Mister Graves has carved out a space inside him for his cock, there's a dull ache, and a curling of warmth in his gut. The pleasure is mounting behind the boy’s eyes and he thinks it's safe, he draws his hips back pulling out only a little bit before pushing back in. Credence closes his eyes and focuses on just feeling, breathing, and he swallows before speaking again, something pointless, but pleading. 

"Mister Graves.... can you kiss me again?" His hands fall away to the bed, fisting the sheets, so the man won't have anything in his way as he moves.

 

"I suppose." Percival murmurs before obliging the boy with another. His hips draw out further now until on the head remains inside before pushing back in. Credence winces at the thrust in, but the continued kiss and touch to his own cock keep him stilled, calm. He's still trying to remember to breathe.

 

The boy is taking it quite well. He begins to allow himself to slip into his own pleasure, he angles his hips and tries to find the boy's prostate before he loses coherence.

Credence almost stops breathing from the pure bliss the move sends through him, and he kisses back as hard as he can, trying to let Mister Graves know he's okay. It's not terrible.  His hands lift and he catches the edge of the man's coat collar, keeping him there. He wishes the man was completely bared to his eyes. Credence wants to cling to him and never let go. Percival kisses back, drowning in his lust. He pistons his hips harder now that he knows how the boy responds. He trails his kisses down his neck, over that crimson ichor, and back to his mouth. Taking everything the boy has to offer.

 

The man moves like he's hurried, like they don't have all the time in the world. Credence pants for air as he feels every motion of the man's cock into him, pleasure spiking through his own body. Percival moves his hand faster, his vision glazes over. He nips at the boy's earlobe, "I'm close, come for me Credence."

 

The slight sting of pain from what can only be called a love bite is startling, but Credence finds himself moaning, chasing how it feels, laid bare beneath Mister Graves, he's dying to come, to finish and reach heaven.

 

"Mister Graves! It's too much, I'm-" His eyes squeeze shut tightly as his cock spills over his skin, the man's hand never stilling once, as his body moves atop Credence. Percival speeds up his own pace, dropping the boy's now soft cock he only chases his own orgasm. He has no idea how rough he's slamming into the smaller body. He presses his forehead into the space between Credence’s neck and shoulder in the bed, inhaling how wonderful his scent is; a mixture of arousal, fear, and love. 

 

The man seems desperate to finish, animalistic, and Credence merely tries to keep relaxed, to think of how happy the man will be when he comes. He's done this, he's made the man this way. Wickedness and sin are all he knows, but they've brought him here. Mister Graves' own home and bed.

"Mister Graves... I think I love you." He murmurs quietly, he certainly forgives him. The second chance goes double. He brings a hand up to the back of the man's neck, and holds on to him, feeling every roll of his hips, and push of his cock.

 

It's almost heartbreaking the way he talks with such worship. The boy has never even truly met Percival before, yet here is is, giving him the most intimate parts of himself. He licks at the skin of the boy’s neck and the taste is divine, he releases into the tight passage, moving his hips until there's nothing left in his cock. Credence melts under the man as he feels the warmth filling him up, and he's able to smile, for the first time in a long time.

 

Percival places a soft kiss to that smile as he pulls out, he nuzzles closer into his neck and whispers gently, reverent, "You were perfect, my boy." Percival pauses a moment more, then he lets his fangs elongate and he bites down.

 

"I was?" The pain distracts from the pleasure still singing through him, and Credence blinks, as things get fuzzy, but not from tears.

"Mister Graves... what...?" Everything feels sluggish.

 

It's hard to think. Even the firelight dims, and every blink hurts more, takes more effort.

He tries to swallow, to breathe, but his lungs burn, as it feels like Mister Graves is pulling his energy from him.

 

Percival drinks. He sucks at the pinpricks in the boy’s neck and lets the red river of blood flow into his. He's a parasite and he latches on, holding the boy's head so he can't move away. His bloodlust is taking over and it's the only thing that goes through his head.

Something has gone terribly wrong. Credence is barely conscious, aware.

It's like he can feel the seconds, moments escaping him, before the darkness fully embraces him. But it's not his magic.

It's worse. He's dying. It's the warnings of demons and death, lurking around every corner. Somehow, they have stolen his love. 

The man is drinking his blood…

Tears, prayers, nothing matters. He blinks one last time, and hopes, fleetingly, his love has not been in vain. He breathes his last, and his hand falls from the man’s neck, where he touched him in a faint imitation of how his Mister Graves used to hold him.

 

Percival can feel the life leaving the slender body beneath him. He pulls back before he's all the way gone to avoid drinking any dead blood. He looks at Credence as the light fades from his eyes. He catches the hand and holds it a little long moment. No last rites for the sweet, unfailingly loyal creature. Percival is almost sorry to let him go. He speaks to the darkness, his words falling on deaf ears.

"My boy..."

 

* * *

 

**~ end ~**

 

**Author's Note:**

> credence - w.r.  
> graves - w.g.
> 
>  
> 
> sorry guys. needed some angst. -w.r.
> 
> whoops... -w.g.


End file.
